365 Days
by cadlg7
Summary: Dean escaped the Heavens and was given a year to return to them or die and become a Castiel was given the mission to get him back before his year came to an But what happens when during his task, the angel begins to fall for the key to a promotion? Could he save the Winchester before his clock comes to an end? Castiel X Dean


**Leaving Prison**

There were words to describe what Dean Winchester went through to escape. But if you were in his shoes, you'd understand that even the right vocabulary seemed too small for a brief description of the events.

All he cared about was to run and not once turn back to see what was left behind. His clothes were torn and bloodied from the four angels he had to get through to escape, his limbs pained immensely, and his was more than sure that a few of his ribs were severely fractured. _Suck it up, Dean_, he repeated those words in his head while the pain consumed him.

It had been a year since the angels abducted him for unidentified reasons; making it seem to the ones he mostly cared for as if he were dead. It all happened two days after his father, John Winchester, passed away when the unknown heavenly forces took him away and locked him behind bars where he was mistreated.

From the little he remembered of the geography John taught him, the continuous acres of forestry, and the extremely humid and cold weather told him he was either in upper Washington or lower British Columbia. For now, where he was didn't matter, he just wanted to stay away from the continuous footsteps and whispers that haunted him with every step he took.

He tripped on his feet when an abrupt pain hit his ankle. On the ground, he ripped out the cloth that covered the sudden discomfort and just underneath the trickling blood was a tattoo of the 365th number. What it could've meant? Not even the first Winchester son knew.

Dean decided to not give it much thought to it so he quickly stood up and resumed with his track. It was about midnight, with the full moon lighting the trees and dead leaves on the ground that were still to come. There were a few stars that decorated the black sky, three that stood out more than the others.

The soil underneath the broken brown leaves was moist, giving it around five hours since it last rained. The pitch black shadow covered lengths of the forest gave him the idea that this could've been used for some horror movie and that he was victim running away from the crazy murderer. In his case, that didn't help him much, it only made it worse.

_Suck it up, Dean_, he told himself once more, but his fear began to overflow to a degree that started to affect his breathing. _Suck it up, Dean…It will all be over soon. _

After a few more seconds of running, he started to hear car honks, distant but unmistakable. That created a small smile on his dried lips.

Just half a mile away, Dean's feet finally touched the street pavement. From the way it was perfectly settled, it was a road that was hardly ever used or was built again. Every eighty feet there were street lamps located on each side to give off some lightning from the few the scenery got.

His ears caught the sound of a car coming. Dean turned around and in the distance a navy blue minivan with bright head lights was driving his way. He hurried to the middle of the road to wave his hands in the air, the movements increasing the existing pain.

The woman driving, after finishing a discussion with her twelve year old son, spotted Dean and immediately hit the brake. When he walked closer to the van, she locked the door and asked her children to stay quiet.

She rolled down her window and allowed him to speak. "Please," Begged Dean, his throat slightly sore from the one word he had said, "_Please_, help me."

His voice made her notice the many wounds in his body, "My god, you're hurt! _Really_ hurt." She was a fake blonde woman in her early thirties with big bright blue eyes.

"Just give me a ride to a nearby public phone; I need to make a call." The hesitation to allow him in was obvious. "You don't need to trust me, that's fine. I can simply wait for the next car." He stepped back, giving the woman enough distance to drive away.

The woman laughed, "Um, listen, I don't think anyone would stop for an injured man. I'm probably the nicest person willing to stop for a helpless person." She unlocked the doors. "My name's Monika, by the way."

"You don't own a phone?" He asked as he got into the car.

"I do, but I forgot it at home, so…"

"Mommy, who is he?" Monika's oldest kid put away his Gameboy to stare at the battered Dean Winchester.

"Liam, kid, my name's Liam." He lied.

Even though it was barely audible, Dean was able to make out what the boy muttered, "Just like daddy."

By the way Monika turned around to stare at her son to give him and her two year old daughter a smile, she had heard his comment too, "Jordan, your father will come back."

"Is his dad in the army?" Dean whispered to her.

"Actually, the Air Force." She corrected then turned up the volume of her radio; she wanted to avoid the topic and it was obvious for Dean to see.

A song of some guy Dean had never heard of was playing. It was that type of song that had the same beat in the first thirty seconds, changed for the chorus, and then went back to the tune of the beginning. From the way Jordan was humming along to it, the singer, whose voice was quite high-pitched for a man, must've been pretty popular for kids his age. A little AC/DC would've been far better than that song about finding true love.

"So, where are we?"

Monika turned down the volume to hear his voice better, "Diablo, Washington."

Dean didn't like the name of the place, not after what he had been through. "What's the date?"

"October 3rd…" More than a year had passed since John's passing and since the angels took Dean away. Monika stopped at a red light, "So, tell me, what's your story?"

He didn't know how to respond to that. It wasn't as if he could tell her that his mother was killed by a yellow eyed demon and because of it, his dad raised him and his brother, Sammy, as hunters. Therefore, he went with the biggest part of his life and the one he cared for the most, "I have a younger brother but I… I don't know how he's doing…"

Sammy popped into mind. How was he doing? Was he still running the family business? The last he remembered of him was a little after the killer clown case.

"Oh," The car moved again, "Is there a reason of why you are beat up?"

Another question he couldn't answer with the truth, "Some family members got involved with the wrong crowd and things got out of hand."

"I'm sorry to hear that…"

As the driving continued, the number of trees became scattered. There were some areas with more green than others, houses that looked like horror movie cabins were hardly seen and others that looked like advertisement for the 'perfect neighborhood'.

"Uh, Liam," Monika tapped his shoulder, "There's a phone over there." She pointed at an old public phone at the back of a convenience store. Dean was about to open the door but Monika stopped him, "Here," She pulled out fifty dollars and four quarters from her purse and gave it to the needing young man, "I'm guessing you don't have any money so take this one…There's also a motel you can spend the night at."

"Thanks," He smiled. As much as he wanted to give her more than that, he feared it be a little weird with the blood stains that covered him. "I owe you one."

Monika grinned, "You don't owe me anything and…good luck with finding your little brother."

Dean closed the door and waved goodbye as Monika and her two children drove away. It was a little misty, giving out a perfect first impression for a town whose name meant Devil in Spanish. The phone was old and rusty, like if it hadn't been used since the first cell phone was invented. He dialed Sam's number first and it was answered by the third ring.

"Hello?!" There was high pop music playing in the background, "Who's this?" That was definitively not Sam.

"Is Sam Winchester there?"

The person was obviously drunk, "Sam? My ex-girlfriend's name was Sam. Did…did she tell you to call me o-or what?"

"Is Sam Winchester there?" Dean's voice grew louder.

The guy laughed, he was also clearly stoned. "Whoa, man, I don't know any Sam Wee…Losechester. I just got this phone number last month, so, I don't know m-m-may-maybe this was the past phone owner's number."

Dean sighed, irritated, then hung up. He put another fifty cents and dialed Bobby's phone number. Hopefully, his number hadn't been given to some hippie boy.

"Who's this?" Bobby asked.

Dean smiled, he sure was glad to hear his voice again, "Bobby, it's me, Dean."

The amount of disbelief in his tone was very high. "I don't believe you."

"I don't need you to. Where's Sam?"

"I'm not telling you."

"Bobby, don't hang up, I need to know where Sam is; I need to know if he's doing okay."

"How are you alive?"

"I was never dead in the first place, okay? The angels took me away to the heavens in my sleep. There, they kept me prisoner until a few hours ago, when I escaped."

"The heavens?"

"Yes, Bobby, _up there_." He looked around, "Now, where's Sam? I need to see him."

Bobby ignored Dean's question again, "Where are you?"

"Diablo, Washington. Can't you come and get me then we can hot road and get Sam."

"Listen, Dean, I'm in Connecticut investigating a case about a haunted daycare." He sighed, "And about Sam, he's in Washington."

That made Dean grin. Who would've known that Sammy was so close? "Seriously? Where? Is he nearby?"

"He's in a Seattle mental hospital."

"Investigating?"

"No, Dean, he's a patient there."

Every piece of happiness that had been inside of Dean, drained away the moment Bobby said 'patient there'. Had Sam finally reached his final breakdown point? "What?"

"I'm sorry, son." Bobby hung up.

As much as he wanted to cry, Dean held back the tears. What in the world happened to Sam? There was only one way to find out. The answer to his question was just a few hours away. After that, sleep didn't seem as important anymore. He turned to the gas station and in the distance, there was a red Camaro. It would all be for Sammy.


End file.
